


Darting Blow

by MidwesternDuchess



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: F/M, I'm so fucking unwell asdfghjkl fuck that reuinon, and someone just needed to SAY SOMETHING to Alm and Celica, anyway, but at least Saber and Lukas do some damage control? maybe?, hi I literally stopped my play through to write this, it's an actual travesty that Saber doesn't have supports because He's Great, not really a fix-it cause they still go their seperate ways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-10
Updated: 2017-06-10
Packaged: 2018-11-12 08:10:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11157792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidwesternDuchess/pseuds/MidwesternDuchess
Summary: "We spoke endlessly about everything and nothing. Now, I cannot even remember the sound of your voice." -Michael Faudet(They won't listen to each other, or even themselves. Belief goes both ways. End of Act 2.)





	Darting Blow

_"I had so much I wanted to say to you…How did it end up like this?"_

Alm makes his way down the winding staircase on unsteady legs, eyes unfocused, head a muddled mess.

First the liberation of the castle, then the return of Celica— _Celica, **his** Celica, after all these years she still remembered, she'd **looked** for him—_

And then it had all gone horribly, horribly wrong, and Alm descends the steps, numb to the world.

It had all unraveled so quickly—she'd misunderstood his words, he'd taken her flippant remark too close to heart. They'd both recoiled like cornered alley cats—hackles raised, fur bristling, teeth bared.

And now she's gone. Alm crosses the floor back to the throne room, listening to the distant cheers of the ongoing celebration. Such a polarizing feeling—the highest high he's ever felt suddenly plunging down into the lowest low he's ever experienced. Emotional whiplash. He feels deeply, spiritually unbalanced—like his very soul is lost, meandering around his body, still in shock over all of it—

A movement in the shadows and Alm's sword clears its sheath with a crystalline ring as he levels it at a man lurking beneath a pillar.

"Who are you?" he demands, the adrenaline from the fight still singing in his blood. He squints, trying to make out the man's face, but all he can see is a cocky smirk and an eye patch. _What?_

"At ease, _hero,"_ the man drawls, lazily lifting his hands in a casual display of surrender. "No need to get so excited."

"Your name," Alm demands. "You're not with the Deliverance, I can tell."

 _"Oof."_ Alm watches with a scowl as the man feigns a blow, wincing in theatrical pain, apparently unbothered by the sword poised at his throat. "Watch it with the insults, kid. I could wipe the floor with half of your Deliverance pals."

He tightens his grip on his blade. "Your _name,"_ he says again.

His tense tone draws a smirk from the man, and he flashes Alm a crooked grin, good humor apparently restored. "Name's Saber. I'm with the High Priestess herself." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder towards the main gates. "You know, the one who just left here in tears?"

Alm grits his teeth. He _thought_ he'd seen the sheen of tears in Celica's eyes before she'd turned away…still. _Saber?_ A _sellsword?_

"Please, Celica would never travel with a mercenary," Alm argues.

Saber barks a laugh at this, and Alm watches warily as he leans against one of the grand pillars supporting the throne room before slowly lowering his sword and sheathing it once more. Lying or not, this man would be mad to attack him here—with half of the Deliverance just two rooms over.

"Maybe not the Celica you knew," Saber agrees casually, apparently apathetic to Alm's decision to sheath his sword. "Though the way I hear it, you were only kids then. The Celica _I_ know hires anyone who will help her chase off some pirates, and then ends up leading the charge herself." He rolls his eye, but there's a fondness and familiarity in his tone that sets Alm on edge. "Crazy priestess," he adds with a shake of his head.

Alm glares. _Crazy priestess?_ "And just how long have you known Celica?" he demands.

Saber chuckles. "Easy there, lad. No need to get any greener than you already are. She's my employer—nothing more." A pause. "Well, maybe not _nothing_ more. Seems she roused some old paternal bone of mine that's been rotting away all these years."

"Paternal bone?" Alm deadpans, eyebrow arched dubiously. "I didn't know mercenaries had those."

The man just shrugs, apparently unruffled by Alm's curt words. "I didn't either, to be honest. If ya _really_ wanna know, I was only hired to see her through some pirate-infested waters and maybe cut down a seadog or two. Technically, our contract's up."

Alm scoffs. "Then why do I get the feeling you're not leaving her anytime soon?" he asks, dully annoyed.

Saber flashes him another grin. "'Cause you ain't stupid, boy. I'll admit it—I got a bit caught up in the grandness of it all." He waves a hand through the air, as if crafting some magnificent epic. "A warrior priestess traveling to Mila's Temple, determined to bring peace back to an admittedly pretty shitty country."

Alm's expression sours at his description, and Saber's hoarse laugh returns.

"What can I say? She's an inspiring lass, hard to say no to." Saber quirks an eyebrow. "Though you didn't seem to have much trouble with that, did ya?"

Alm works his jaw. He had his fill of this _Saber_ fellow the moment he saw him. "That's between us," he grits out.

Saber chuckles, shaking his head. "I know, kid, trust me. There ain't a lot I won't do for Her Worship, but getting in between a lover's spat's not really my style."

Color rises hot and fast in Alm's face and he physically recoils from Saber's words. **_"What?_** A _lover's—?_ No! _No."_ He clears his throat, willing his flush away. "No _._ Celica and I—we're—it's just a tiff, okay? Nothing more."

Saber snorts, giving him a long, dubious look with his good eye. "Sure, kid. Take it from someone who's eaten a fair amount of crow in his life—shit's vile. Better to be honest when ya can be."

"I—This doesn't concern you, anyway," Alm tells him fiercely, still scarlet. "Did Celica send you here to—to _interrogate_ me?"

Even as he says it, Alm knows it's not true. Celica's just as fiercely private as he is—she wouldn't bring anyone else into an argument that was just between them. But the words are already out, and Saber's already laughing.

 _"Celica?"_ He shakes his head, amused. "'Course not, kid. She'd be mad as hell if she knew I was talkin' to you. Girl's got a stubborn streak in her long as my arm and twice as wide. 'Sides, she wants us to ship out of here quick as we can. Had to twist her arm just to spare me a second to come find ya."

Alm gives him a flat glare. "Well? You've found me. Did you have a goal besides petty insults?"

The mood turns—swings like a pendulum into a dark new direction—at his words, and Alm feels himself tense as Saber shifts his weight, good eye glittering in the near dark of the shadows.

"Look, I'll be honest," Saber begins, and there's a sudden bite of solemnity to his voice that makes Alm find the hilt of his blade.

"I ain't tryin' to undermine your relationship with Celica—she could do a lot worse than you, that's for sure—but as it stands, I know more about _current_ Celica than _you_ do. The lass I traveled here with—fighting pirates and casters and _dragons,_ mind—ain't the lass you know from wherever you know her, got it?"

Alm goes still at his words—his whole body snapping taut as bowstring. _Current Celica._ Celica the dragon slayer. Celica the liberator of the seas. Celica the priestess of Mila. It had only been seven years, and yet, the girl he knew in Ram Village…the girl he….

"I believe in Celica," Saber says, voice sharp as the dagger Alm knows he has within reach, forcing him to snap to attention. "When she rushed that dragon—y'know, that winged _monstrosity_ that's only been eatin' folks for what? Ten millennia? Twelve?—she ran at it with some kinda fire in her eyes that I've never seen before. There was this glow to her armor, like Mila _herself_ was blessing the girl."

Alm hesitates, recalling the way Celica's eyes had shone back on the balcony when she'd recalled her tale. How brightly she'd seemed to burn in that moment, the blessed sword at her side almost glowing from within its sheath—

"No one has heard from Mila for years now," Alm argues, dredging up the argument he'd used against Celica like bile in this throat. "She hasn't answered anyone's prayers, her shrines only house thieves and Terrors, we can't just sit around and hope, we have to _fight—"_

"I'm a mercenary, lad," Saber cuts him off flatly. "I've been fighting since I could hold a sword, and I've never stopped. You don't believe Celica? Fine. I probably wouldn't either, if I was ten-and-eight and had just been given control of an _army."_

Alm feels himself bristle. "It's not _like_ that—!"

Saber steps forward then, shifting out of the shadows he'd stood in, and Alm feels himself instinctually back off as the sellsword looms above him, light spilling upon corded muscles and bone-white scars.

"So believe _me_ when I say that fighting won't get you what you want—not forever. You start fixing your problems with the sword and you'll never put it down again. You forget how to untie knots and just start to cut the whole string in half."

Alm can only stare. It isn't…it's not… _he's_ not…

Celica's plea rings in his ears, her insistence that both sides could work something out if they'd only _try—_

Saber gazes down at him, expression hard and set like the headstones he'd seen in Mila's Turnwheel.

"There's a goddess in this world, hero," Saber tells him lowly. "And she's in Celica's corner for sure. And if anyone's gonna convince the Earth Mother to lend a hand to this sorry continent—it's the priestess you just sent packing."

Alm feels empty—drained. Like he can't place himself in time or space, he's lost his anchor to the here and now and _damn it all, he should have listened, should have choked down his damned **pride—**_

"Go fight your war, Commander," Saber says, and Alm blinks at the sudden exhaustion in his voice. "You think you can beat Rudolf? Fine. I wish you the best." He turns to leave then, and Alm just watches him go.

"But me and my shitty luck are on Celica's side."

-0-

_"You…you stubborn **jerk!"**_

Celica trails after Mae and Boey, feeling a thick, suffocating haze hanging like humidity in her head. She'd been angry— _so angry, so righteously, furiously **angry**_ —and for what? Because Alm wouldn't listen to her? She'd shown up unannounced after seven years and ruined the greatest day of his life simply because he didn't _agree_ with her? What kind of childish nonsense is _that?_ In Mila's name, she is a _Priestess!_

Had she simply grown used to the easy agreeability of her friends? Had she forgotten what it felt like to reason out differences, to give and take and make things as equal as possible? To hear out every side before…before flying off the handle?

A cool breeze blows in, and she distantly hears Mae's complaints, but keeps walking, feeling numb. What kind of person argues for peace so… _wrathfully?_

"Pardon me, milady."

Celica hardly hears the polite call over the sound of Mae and Boey's squabbling and her own churning thoughts, and it's truly only the flash of brilliant scarlet armor that catches her eye. She jerks to attention, seeing a young man standing a respectful distance away, patiently waiting to be addressed.

"Oh, um, hello," Celica greets him, hoping he hadn't been standing there long. Shame burns high in her cheeks. How is she supposed to reach the Temple of Mila in this state?

 _Get it together, Celica,_ she chides herself. _Now is **not** the time to fall apart._

Behind her, Mae and Boey have gone quiet, and she feels a sudden warmth at her sides as her friends step up to flank her.

"Oh? Who's this? Another friend?" Mae asks, poorly disguised anger in her voice. She glares at the knight, temper still hot from seeing the result of Celica and Alm's argument. "You seem to have a lot of those here, Celica."

"Peace, Mae," Celica murmurs. She offers the knight the best smile she can muster. It's hardly more than a tilt of her lips. "May I help you, Sir?"

He gifts her with a gracious smile that's leagues kinder than hers. "I was hoping to have a quick word with you, milady, if it's not too much trouble."

"Sorry, but we were just leaving," Boey tells him, and Celica feels his aura flash as flames flicker at his fingertips. "No hard feelings."

The knight raises his eyebrows at the—to be honest, _uncalled for_ —aggression, and Celica just sighs.

"Go see if Saber's concluded his business," Celica requests, turning to glance at her friends. "I'll rejoin you shortly, and we'll leave for the mountains. Understand?"

After a moment of unhappy frowning—Celica loves her friends dearly, and she knows she's visibly upset, but in Mila's name she's not a _child_ —Mae and Boey set off to do as she asked. With them gone, she turns back to the knight, expectant.

"I'm Lukas," he introduces himself. "A member of the Deliverance."

Celica's mouth goes taut with displeasure. "Ah," she remarks. "How wonderful."

A wry smile plays at the man's lips—here and gone so fast Celica wonders if she imagined it.

"You are well within your rights to dislike the Deliverance's use of violence, milady," he replies. "But I assure you, none among us are bloodthirsty in the slightest."

Celica sighs. "That isn't what I meant, I'm only trying to avoid more pain and suffering for everyone—Zofians _and_ Rigelians."

Lukas bows his head in acquaintance. "And that is a noble cause, milady, truly. But I promise you the Deliverance's goals are no less noble."

A hard glare darkens the Priestess' features. "Did Alm send you?" she demands suddenly. "Because if so, that is _so_ out of line, that was a _private_ conversation—"

"Please, milady, it's nothing like that," Lukas hastens to explain, holding up his hands in a sign of placidity. Celica just arches an eyebrow, and he continues.

"I've no intention of interfering with your…discussion." Every word the man speaks seems carefully chosen and deliberately phrased. Celica tries not to think about how helpful such a cool head and measured tongue would have been some twenty minutes ago. "But I didn't want you to leave thinking ill of Alm or the Deliverance."

Celica frowns. "Forgive me, but I don't see how that's any of your business," she tells him bluntly.

That amused smile again—quick as a flash. Celica would find it charming if she weren't in such a state.

"Alm did not ask for this, milady," Lukas reasons. "Just as, I imagine, you did not ask to undertake the task you seek to complete."

Celica bristles. "It is my honor and my privilege to seek communion with the Earth Mother—" she begins hotly.

"And is it also your honor and privilege to rout out bands of pirates?" the knight asks smoothly, lifting an eyebrow. "Five pirate raids in a little more than three weeks with the impressive bonus of a slain dragon. That's quite the accomplishment for a priestess."

Celica feels her face flush at being called out so calmly. _The **nerve!**_

"Those pirates brought the battle to _us,"_ she insists. "It was the only way to reach mainland."

Lukas just gazes at her evenly. "Forgive me, I may be misremembering, but I thought I recalled the pirate Barth's hideout being well _out_ of the way of the route to the mainland, requiring a direct trip in order to reach his island." He lifts his eyebrows, giving her a somewhat pointed look. "So if someone were, say, purely by example, on a staunchly peaceful pilgrimage, they would have no reason to engage Barth's men, and _yet…"_

Celica just glares at him. A geography expert. How marvelous.

"That was _one_ battle with _one_ band of pirates!" she argues, distantly realizing she's raised her voice again. **_Control_** _yourself, for Mila's **sake!**_ "What Alm is proposing is all-out _war!"_

Lukas inclines his head. "You are correct, milady, and I never implied the two scenarios were a perfect match, but my point stands. You are a woman of the cloth, and have seen more of the world's terrors than some of even the most seasoned knights. I _know_ you do not believe that everything has a _perfectly_ peaceful solution."

Celica grits her teeth, distantly feeling herself losing ground in this argument but refusing to bow out.

"Of course I don't—we don't live in a perfect world," she retorts, words forced through gritted teeth. If such a world existed, she never would have left Ram Village, never would have left _Alm—_

"But war is not always the answer either," she argues. "Valentia is _blessed_ by Mila, and I will not have her name trampled under the hooves of warhorses, or lost in the ringing of steel."

Another breeze blows in, and Celica feels the winds of their discussion turning with it.

"Knights stand for more than war, milady," Lukas explains quietly. "Yes, when there is a battle to be fought, we will be there in a moment to defend our land and countrymen. But…this is a necessary duty. If we could all lay down our arms and be sure that we would never need to pick them up again—that Mila would personally watch over us all, and all that we hold dear—I assure you Alm's sword would be the first one in the pile."

His calm words strike a deadly blow against Celica's temper, and the Priestess feels herself drawing up short—Alm's promise of return to Ram Village ringing in her head, if only the lost princess would return…

"I believe in the Deliverance, and in Alm. I only hoped to share some of that belief with you," Lukas goes on. "That you may see Alm in some of the light that I—and truly, all of Zofia—see him in." He gives her a small smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "I have lost many friends to this war, milady—some of them before we could right wrongs, or apologize for brash words."

Celica's breath catches, and he hastens on. "Please, I do not mean to upset you, or guilt you into changing your actions—you were only half of the argument, and I know Alm well enough. I'm sure he said regrettable things as well."

The statement draws her up short. _I know Alm well enough._ Could she make such a claim? At one time, perhaps, but now…she feels she hardly knows him. Alm of Ram Village, now Alm of the Deliverance. How similar are the two?

"I am not a man of faith, milady." Lukas' measured voice draws her out of her thoughts, and she glances up to see him gazing intently at her. "I am a man of action. I trust the lance in my hand, the men at my side, and the Commander before me." He gives her a look of such stark intensity it draws gooseflesh across her bare arms, and Celica shivers slightly in the receding sun. "I stand with the Deliverance in order to bring about what change I can—be it large or small—by my own hands."

Celica can only stand there—still as a statue, eyes a million miles away and nowhere at all. _She should have listened, she should have put her own righteous pride **aside—**_

"I wish you luck on your journey, Priestess," he tells her, and Celica bites her lip. His voice _burns_ with sincerity.

The numbness that had plagued Celica since her argument with Alm suddenly seems to melt away, and the cold of the evening air rushes in, chilling her to the core. She gasps suddenly, eyes going wide. She'd ruined everything— _everything_ —and for _what?_

Lukas gifts her with a final smile and polite nod of his head before turning to leave. Celica can only stare after him.

"But as much as I hope that you can find a peaceful solution to this war, I walk with Alm and the Deliverance."

**Author's Note:**

> WHAT'S GOOD I'M BACK IN FIRE EMBLEM HELL IT'S LIKE I NEVER LEFT
> 
> This scene started because hi I love Saber to the moon and back and it was originally only supposed to be him and Alm, but I added Celica and Lukas because this game is all about duality and like idk it's kinda a stretch to imagine Lukas actually going after Celica but the boy _does_ love the Deliverance _that much_ so maybe it's not a stretch?
> 
> I hated their reunion because a) I knew it was going to end in an argument and was fucking dreading it and b) I feel like Celica came in real hot which is kinda out of character for her? Idk like I know she's very passionate and it wasn't from a place of anger really it was more her just stressed because like technically she's the princess and this is kind of her problem and her being very concerned for Alm and it just came out kind of...abrasively. Also they're like 18.
> 
> Also I know technically neither Saber or Lukas knew anything about Alm and Celica but I always headcanon there being much more time in the campaigns than what the player sees so I think it might have come up vaguely in conversation and then when Saber/Lukas saw Alm/Celica they were like "oh okay this is the person now I get it"
> 
> Sorry this is kind of just a jumbled mess I wrote it in like four hours I'm literally still mid-playthrough but I'm actually [live-tweeting my adventure](https://twitter.com/reduxroyal/status/872820767540600832) if that sounds like something you'd be into (fair warning spoilers abound)
> 
> _Like this piece? Here’s my billboard!_
> 
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> 
> I'm 100% gonna write more Echoes stuff the further I get through it so I hope you liked this! Have a good one kids!
> 
> As always, if you have any questions, comments, or just wanna chat, drop me a line <3


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